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"I see three things. First, all the masked faces that have turned to focus on me. Second, Tim is backing slowly away from me—abandoning me. Desperation pounds in my ears. Then, I see Rosa's small form laying still--too still--on the ground behind the spandex-suited men. A sob tears from my throat. If she is dead, I'm going to kill them. Every last one of them."

On the run, Ivy faces humanity's dark side. Her bubble wasn't just popped, it was doused with gasoline and burned to the ground. Aunty is gone; and, though Ivy's friends are still with her, she's never been more on her own. Pravda thinks Ivy's blood can heal the world. Can Ivy count on anyone to stay the same, or will Pravda's relentless misconceptions strip away everything she has always believed?